


i'll hold your hands (they're just like ice)

by LoonyLoopyLisa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Hypothermia, Strike Team Delta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25436269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLoopyLisa/pseuds/LoonyLoopyLisa
Summary: “Your fingers are blue,” she said conversationally, taking his bow case from him.Clint shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hunching in on himself.  He focused on moving one foot in front of the other, trying unsuccessfully to keep his teeth from chattering.  He chose not to notice the worried glances she sent him.***Clint gets hypothermia on a mission.  Natasha finds a way to warm him up.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2020





	i'll hold your hands (they're just like ice)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



> This is for [Kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999) as part of the [Charity Hawktion](https://charityhawktion.tumblr.com/). They asked for a Strike Team Delta mission gone wrong and huddling for warmth leading to smut. I hope you like it.
> 
> This was beta read by the amazing [squadrickchestopher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/pseuds/squadrickchestopher). Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title taken from Baby It's Cold Outside.

“This sucks,” Clint muttered to himself from his perch on the roof, keeping an eye on the bright red of Natasha’s hair as she laughed in the apartment across the street. Her head was thrown back, neck on display in a move calculated to catch the target’s attention. While Clint could admit she looked beautiful he preferred to see her when she was hunched over, clutching her stomach, snorting from laughter from some terrible joke he had cracked.

The snow continued to fall around him while Natasha smiled and flirted, luring the target in. She had told Clint that she could do this part alone, and Clint believed her, but that didn’t mean he was letting her walk into the lion’s den alone. She had rolled her eyes but the indulgent look on her face had shown that she wasn’t really surprised by his insistence on watching her back.

Night fell, stars twinkling in the sky before Natasha signaled she had the information. Clint forced his body to move, fingers numb as he put his bow back in his case. He hurried down the fire escape, jumping the last few steps before walking leisurely down the street. Natasha fell into step beside him almost immediately, the plans she had stolen already tucked out of sight, hair tucked under her hat.

“Your fingers are blue,” she said conversationally, taking his bow case from him.

Clint shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hunching in on himself. He focused on moving one foot in front of the other, trying unsuccessfully to keep his teeth from chattering. He chose not to notice the worried glances she sent him.

Before long they were on the subway heading back to the safehouse. Natasha set the bow case down between them and took her gloves off. “Give me your hands,” she said.

Clint pulled his still numb hands out, holding them out to her. She cupped his hands between hers, rubbing gently and breathing into them. Clint focused on the almost empty subway car, watching their backs while Natasha focused on him. “I’ll call Coulson when we get back,” she murmured. “You need to warm up.”

Clint nodded. “Warming up sounds good. I’m kinda afraid my dick is going to-”

“This is our stop,” Natasha interrupted him, shooting Clint an amused look.

Almost able to feel his fingers, he picked up his bow case, tucking his other hand in his jacket pocket. It wasn’t far back to the safehouse and then he’d be able to warm back up.

They were taking a shortcut through the park when Clint noticed the men trailing them. He threw his arm around Natasha’s shoulders, turning her slightly so she could see them. Clint turned to run but two more men had appeared behind them while they had been distracted.

 _Fuck_ , Clint thought, stopping and holding his hands up. A large man climbed out of a nearby car. The target, Clint realized.

“I think you have taken something of mine,” he called as he slowly walked up to them.

Clint glanced behind them but they were surrounded. _Shit._ They’d be on him before he could pull out his bow. Luckily, he had packed several knives before they left the safehouse. He surreptitiously palmed one, watching for whoever was going to make the first move.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Natasha lied.

The man was not convinced. “You thought I would not notice the plans you had stolen?” he scoffed.

Moving lightning fast, Natasha swung her foot at the man, dropping low to the ground. The men rushed them but Clint used his bow case to knock two of them back. Unfortunately, he lost his grip on it and it crashed to the ground beside them.

He tried to keep an eye on Natasha while she fought the surprisingly agile target but two more men were advancing on Clint quickly. He backed up, trying to give himself more room. The first man reached him and swung a meaty fist at him. Clint ducked and came back with an uppercut that knocked the guy back. His partner rushed him but Clint ducked down, using the guy’s momentum against him as he flipped him over his shoulder. The guy landed with a _crack_ but Clint didn’t have time to think about that.

He flipped the knife, using it to keep distance between them while moving so he could see both of them at once. The one he had punched looked pissed while the other was straightening up from where he had landed.

They both came at him and it was a flurry of punches and kicks, Clint’s knife getting knocked to the side. He had managed to knock one out when the other hit him with the force of a truck. Clint stumbled back, landing heavily on the hard ground, which began to crack and splinter beneath him.

“What the fu-” he managed, before the ice gave way and he plunged into the frozen pond.

It was so cold it hurt. It was quite possibly the worst thing Clint had ever experienced. The air was driven from his lungs from the shock of the cold and it took him a moment to get his bearings enough to swim back up.

By the time Clint breached the surface the remaining bad guys were gone and Natasha was on the edge of the pond, peering out. The naked relief on her face was visible even from where Clint was. He tried to pull himself up but the ice creaked ominously. Unsure of what to do, he held on to the edge of the ice, teeth chattering. His wet clothes pulled at him, trying to drag him under the water. He could feel the way his boots were filling with water, making it harder to stay afloat. It was so hard to pull in air, breath shallow.

Natasha pulled out Clint’s bow, using it to reach him from the shore, breaking ice along the way. He grabbed the end, holding tight as she pulled him in. His arms were shaking too much to lift himself out so she pulled him up until he was laying on the shore. The cold night air felt like it sliced right through his clothes and into his chest. Clint could feel himself shivering.

“Come on,” Natasha urged. “We need to get you inside.”

Clint couldn’t make his body listen. Natasha cursed before pulling him up, slinging one of his arms over her shoulder, picking up his bow with the other. She led him through the park, stumbling in the dark, Clint only vaguely aware of where they were going. He focused on the bright red of Natasha’s hair escaping her hat, understanding somewhere deep inside that he needed to follow her.

They shuffled back to the safehouse, a rundown apartment on the edge of town. Natasha shoved him toward the bathroom. “Get undressed, I’ll find blankets.”

Still confused, Clint stripped down, leaving his sodden clothes in a heap on the floor. He stood there, dripping, until Natasha dropped a towel in his arms on her way past with an armful of blankets. Clint slowly rubbed his hair before haphazardly patting the rest of his body dry.

Clint wrapped the towel around his waist and watched as Natasha piled blankets in front of the fireplace. Teeth chattering, he reached for his duffel bag, planning to put on all the clothes in it.

Natasha appeared out of nowhere, holding more blankets and pushing him away from the bag.

“Nat, what?” Clint definitely did not whine.

“You probably have hypothermia, you need to warm up.”

“Yeah,” Clint said slowly, hugging his arms around himself, “so I need some clothes.”

She rearranged the blankets in her arms, freeing one hand so she could reach out and grab Clint’s, pulling him along with her. She dropped the blankets with the rest, bending down to start arranging them to her liking, shooting him a look that obviously meant _stay_ before turning to the fireplace, piling it high with wood before lighting it.

Standing up and without speaking, Natasha lifted her shirt over her head.

“Woah,” Clint exclaimed, shielding his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“There’s no heat here, it’s not going to get warm,” she said like he was an idiot, “we need to use body heat to warm you up.”

She unclasped her bra, dropping it on her shirt. Clint looked to the ceiling, feeling a blush warm his face. At this rate, he was going to warm himself up just fine.

Soon Natasha was standing there naked. She reached for Clint’s towel, throwing it aside before urging him to lay down in the nest of blankets and pillows she had created. Slowly, he complied.

It should have been uncomfortable, laying naked on the floor with his partner, but the body heat coming from Natasha made Clint groan and move closer. Natasha made sure the blankets were tucked tightly around them before huddling into Clint’s chest. Gingerly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. Natasha tangled their legs together, speaking to Clint softly. Before he knew it he was drifting off to the sounds of the fire and Natasha’s voice.

***

The first thing Clint noticed when he woke up was the heat. It was almost uncomfortably warm under the blankets. The next thing he noticed was the hair in his face. The hair was probably attached to the warm body he was holding. That was nice, at least.

Clint tightened his arms around the body, snuggling in closer. He was almost asleep again when the smell of a familiar shampoo jolted him awake, the events of the previous night flooding his memory.

He must have jerked because Natasha started to move, raising a fist to rub at her eyes. Seeing her like this, tired and soft, no masks in place, Clint felt something shift in his chest. He held still, watching as she rolled over, burrowing into his chest, before falling back asleep.

Clint had admired Natasha even before he had met her. She was strong, leaving the Red Room and all she had known behind, and she was smart, avoiding enemies at every turn. He still wasn’t sure if he had actually surprised her that day a year ago or if she allowed herself to be caught. In the end, it didn’t really matter. She was his partner and he knew he loved her more than anyone else in his life.

But Natasha hadn’t had choices for so long, and then all the choices she had made were for survival. Clint wasn’t going to be another person in her life trying to tell her who to be, making her think she owed him anything for sparing her, trying to make her love him.

Natasha groaned, back arching as she stretched. She blinked sleepy eyes open, focusing on Clint immediately. He tried to wipe the look from his face but he knew he wasn’t fast enough. He tensed, prepared for Natasha to let him down gently, to put space between them that would never recover, but that didn’t happen.

Natasha paused for a moment, watching him closely. She must have found what she was looking for because she slowly leaned up, still watching him. Clint didn’t move a muscle, just watching, waiting.

Her lips were soft against his, just a gentle press. She pulled back and looked into Clint’s eyes.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said back.

They met in the middle, lips insistent this time. Clint’s hands were in Natasha’s hair, her hands running up and down his back.

Clint rolled them so he was propped over Natasha. She smirked, letting him know that she could easily flip them if she wanted. Clint winked, making Natasha laugh before lowering his lips to her neck. Clint worked his way down Natasha’s throat, savoring the taste of her skin, the sound of her moans.

Clint continued down Natasha’s collarbones, kissing and biting, leaving small red marks. He reached her breasts, closing his lips over her right nipple while his hand found the other one. He laved his tongue over her, gently rolling her other nipple between his fingers. Natasha moaned beneath him, pushing her chest up. Clint moaned. Feeling himself growing hard he switched his mouth to the other side.

Once both of her nipples were hard and Natasha was gasping, hands grasping the blankets under her, he moved lower, kissing his way down her stomach. He stopped again at her hip bones, kissing and biting and sucking, leaving marks.

“Fuck, Clint,” Natasha moaned, pushing her hips up. Her fingers found his hair, winding tightly and pushing his head where she wanted it. Happy to oblige, Clint moved further down.

He swirled his tongue around Natasha’s clit, cataloging the noises she made before moving lower, dipping into her warm heat, reveling in how wet she already was, the taste of her exploding across his tongue. Natasha moaned, hips hitching toward his face. Clint fucked his tongue into her a few times before replacing it with two fingers, pushing into Natasha as he moved his mouth back to her clit.

Natasha gasped as Clint crooked his fingers, finding the sweet spot inside her. He continued to pump his fingers in and out, mouth on her clit, sucking and circling. Natasha’s gasps grew louder, hips bucking into Clint’s mouth, curses spilling from her mouth in a variety of languages.

Clint freed his other arm from underneath himself, reaching up Natasha’s body. He found her nipple and rolled it between his fingers, pushing her over the edge, her body convulsing on his fingers as she cried out.

Clint slowed his thrusts and continued to lick gently until she used his hair to pull him back up her body. Clint pulled his fingers out, gently kissing around Natasha’s breasts as she recovered.

Natasha finally let go of Clint’s hair, running her hands down his back. He moved back up Natasha’s sternum and neck before kissing her deeply as she ran her hands down Clint’s back, wrapping one leg around his hip.

Clint ground his aching cock into her stomach, gasping at the feel of her soft skin on him. She reached her hand down, lightly circling him. “Condom?” he gasped, knowing STD testing was part of standard SHIELD physicals.

“Not needed,” she said before guiding him into her tight heat. Clint rested his forehead against her collarbone, letting her adjust, letting himself calm down.

Natasha wrapped her left leg around his hip, pulling him further into her. “Move,” she said.

Clint pulled almost all the way out, slowly, before pushing back in just as slowly, grounding his hips against her. He groaned at the feeling, burying his face in the juncture between Natasha’s neck and shoulder, continuing to pull out and push in just as slowly, torturing them both.

“Faster,” Natasha breathed out, and Clint was helpless against the need in her voice, his thrusts increasing in speed. Natasha wrapped her other leg around his hip, arms wrapping around Clint, nails digging into his back.

Clint gasped at the bright pinpricks of pain, his hips moving even faster, causing Natasha to let out gasps at each thrust. “Yes,” she moaned, nails dragging down Clint’s back. Natasha's gasps started getting higher, closer. He felt the heat in his belly, knew he was close. Clint moved his face to her collarbone, biting down hard. Natasha came with a cry, legs squeezing around Clint, her whole body spasming, tightening around Clint’s cock buried deep inside her. He thrust into her two, three more times before coming, feeling like all the air had left his lungs.

Clint had enough brainpower left to collapse to the side, avoiding crushing Natasha beneath him, his cock slipping out. Clint kept his arm around her as they breathed deeply, feeling his heart rate lower and doubt begin to set in.

Oh fuck, this was a mistake. This was going to change everything, Clint should have known better than to let his feelings out, to let his dick take over.

He started to pull away but in a move too quick for him to comprehend Natasha had him pinned, kneeling over his chest, arms on either side of his head. “You’re thinking too loud and it’s ruining my afterglow.”

“It’s just-” Clint started, but he didn’t know how to finish. How to explain how much he already loved her, how scared he was to lose her. And he would lose her, he was too much of a fuck up to keep anything good in his life. “I don’t want to lose you,” he finally admitted in a whisper.

Natasha pressed soft kisses against his lips, his cheeks, his nose. “You could never lose me,” she said just as softly. “You’re my family.”

Clint knew exactly what she meant, how it felt to search for a family, to finally find someone who you could love, who you could trust to love you back. He felt his eyes well with tears but made no move to wipe them away.

“You’re my family, too,” he whispered, pulling her down for a hug, tears leaking into her hair. Natasha held him back just as tightly.

“You still ruined my afterglow,” Natasha said into his ear, causing Clint to let out a wet laugh.

He let go of her and she leaned back, wiping under his eyes, smiling gently down at him. “Let’s see what we can do about that,” he said.

Natasha laughed brightly before leaning down and kissing him deeply, hair curtained around their faces. Natasha’s tongue traced Clint’s lips before dipping inside, curling against his own. Clint moaned, hands reaching for her, fingers tangling in her hair. She pulled back, kissing the corner of his mouth before moving down his jaw. Clint sputtered as he got a mouth full of hair.

Natasha sat up, making a face at the wet spot on her hair. “Gross, Clint,” she said, nose wrinkled.

“That was your fault!” he argued.

Natasha sighed, but Clint could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she gracefully stood and walked toward their packs. Clint watched the sway of her naked hips, the gentle curve of her back. She bent over her bag, smirking back at Clint who made no move to hide the fact that he had been watching.

Apparently finding what she was looking for, Natasha sauntered back toward Clint, lowering herself gently over him. Clint’s eyes were drawn to her perfect breasts as she raised her arms, pulling her hair back.

Clint reached up, hands cupping her breasts as she slowly began to braid her hair. Clint thumbed over one nipple as he massaged the other. “You’re fucking perfect,” he muttered, continuing to fondle her, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

Natasha gasped as she continued to braid her hair, hands behind her head.

“I want to get my mouth on you,” he continued, “but then I wouldn’t be able to see your face when I do this.” He pinched a nipple between two fingers, hard enough to cause her to jerk above him and gasp.

Clint smiled, watching as she sped up, hands falling lower, chest sticking farther out. He gently thumbed over the abused nipple before switching and pinching the other. Natasha’s hips thrust forward as she tied off the braid before diving back down, lips crashing against Clint’s.

She rested her elbows on either side of his face and Clint’s entire world was filled by Natasha, the weight of her above him, the smell of hair, the taste of her lips. He would be happy to stay here forever.

Clint felt himself start to harden against her again. He started to reach for her but she caught his wrists, forcing them above his head, causing his cock to jump in ways he didn’t want to think about right now. “I think you said something about your mouth,” she said, leaning over him until one of her breasts was positioned above his lips.

Clint opened his mouth, pulling her nipple in, greedily sucking and licking, relishing in the sounds she made, the way she leaned into him, pressing more weight against his wrists, pushing her chest further into his face until all he could see and feel and taste was Natasha.

Clint wasn’t sure how long he lost himself in her but when he came back to himself she was grinding herself against his stomach, gasping, and Clint was so hard it hurt.

“Tasha,” he mumbled, unable to say more. “Tasha, please.”

She leaned back, releasing his wrists. He missed the pressure but was quickly distracted by the feel of her hand on his cock, guiding him into her. Her hands landed on his chest, using him for balance. She slowly lowered herself, enveloping him in her tight heat. She didn’t wait, immediately lifting herself back up and dropping down, Clint deep inside of her.

Clint’s hands came up, resting on her waist, not lifting her so much as holding on for the ride. Natasha continued to work herself up and down, hips grinding in a circle every few thrusts. Clint watched her, amazed. She looked beautiful above him, breasts bouncing, head thrown back, hair already falling out of her braid.

Clint never wanted this moment to end but he could already feel heat coiling low in his stomach. One of his hands moved lower, quickly finding Natasha’s clit, rubbing it in small circles. Natasha gasped, grinding down on him harder.

Natasha’s hand slipped, brushing against his nipple causing a shock of pleasure to shoot through him. “Fuck, Natasha,” he gasped, hips thrusting up without his control. She looked down at him, an intense look on her face before rolling his nipple between her fingers, thighs tightening around his hips as his hips thrust up again and again, driving his cock in deeper and harder.

Natasha moaned, pinching Clint’s nipple. He could feel himself getting close, balls drawing up, past the point of no return. His orgasm hit him like a freight train, body spasming, pushing Natasha over the edge, her body tightening around him, drawing out his pleasure.

Natasha slowly stopped moving, breathing heavily. Finally, she started to laugh, hunched over, holding her stomach. Clint hissed, oversensitive, as she shook around his spent cock. He gently lifted her, slipping out, setting her back down on his stomach, still giggling. Clint watched her, amused and in love, as she snorted.

Evacuation would come later today, and debrief, but it all felt far away with Natasha here with him, love and happiness shining in her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell with me on [tumblr](https://loonyloopylisa.tumblr.com/).


End file.
